Gogol Bordello are an eight piece incredible force of energy which turned an icy Saturday night skate to the Refectory into a tsunami of punk-gypsy-rock debauchery. Having watched their release 'Live From Axis Mundi' the month prior to the gig, I knew it would be a show not to be missed yet I wasn't expecting the gig to be so incendiary. Standing in the middle of the Refectory, a fairly decent venue with a stage fit for kings, was never going to be a good idea. Waltzing on to the latest release 'Tribal Connection' the crowds descended into mass circling, moshing pit of carnage...rampaging fun.Within the first five minutes, one unlucky pogo-er had lost their left shoe. Retreating back to admire Hutz and his insane band of fire-bucket force from the edges of the crowd, it was brilliant to watch the showmanship and punk cabaret that Bordello gave. An incredible live performance, every band member give it their all to deliver an intense rendition of songs spanni
With the unexpected split of the Chapman Family, their legacy has loomed large over the last of the summer days. Haunted by every mp3 shuffle that brings back 'Kids', 'Summer Song' or 'Sound of the Radio' back to the conscious, it's like being trapped in a recurring Sandra Bollock film where the inevitable break up scene is replayed again and again. In short, it was time to get out and see some noise. Step forward the Portland Arms, one of Cambridge's premier venues featuring a beautiful array, nay cornucopia of rooms adjoined by what seems to be a striking loft extension that's had it's floor knocked through to create a space Kevin McCloud would be proud of - not least as it features it's very own painted curtains complete with plug socket. Still, in today's relentless 'X-Factor' campaign to unshackle every member of the population into thinking we too can be the next big thing, regardless of talent, teeth or dignity,
In the pitch black of Leeds Arena, 15,000 people gathered in the shadows of a Saturday night, eagerly awaiting the arrival of BMTH. Opening with "Mantra", their first single from AMO, the rapture began. And here's the thing, without irony, there's something vaguely cultish about BMTH. Their iconography game is strong (see Coldplay ripping off Sempiternal, see the best umbrella since Rihanna with That's The Spirit). The DropDeadClothing line is making models of us all, not seen since Atticus back in the day (ask your dad). The tie-in merch is frankly on another level (bauble, anyone?). And there's an emerging Beatles-style hysteria for Ollie and co, just wearing more black. As ever in this era, they're an open target for knocking, but this set felt like a blistering reminder that Sheffield's finest have always bought their A game. There's the hits, the new stuff, and, pleasingly, a medley of the old songs. There's old skool screaming, an
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